


Descent

by Flatfootmonster



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, CPR, Love, M/M, Memory Palace, Peace, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Reconciliation, it's still beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flatfootmonster/pseuds/Flatfootmonster
Summary: Will closed his eyes. He stood in his waders, the chill spring air nipped at him almost hip deep in the river. He rotated his shoulders, fingers holding loosely to the rod, line reached across the smooth plane of water until it met the surface almost completely undetected. A deep sigh left him...this was peace. It seemed he had been a long while away from this place.Suddenly the fabric of his jumper seemed to irritate his skin, the air turned to a biting cold. The shadow of something itched at his back. Turning slowly, Hannibal stood at the water's edge, dressed as the Doctor would choose to turn out.“You cannot stay here anymore, Will.” Hannibal said softly, the rich sound of his voice still carrying across the moving water.Will grunted at the comment, turning back towards his line again. He had been a good fisherman. Before. Before he had been caught himself, snared in a line of his own making. The trees moved slowly, moulding to the shapes the wind dictated. The grass sighed.“What if I don’t want to leave?” Will mused to the riverbank. It didn’t matter if it was shouted or merely a passing thought, the other would catch it.“We die.”





	Descent

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the #itsstillbeautiful event. Thank you CannibalsSong for proof reading. I love you gurl, you are amazing <3
> 
> Criticism, comments and suggestions always welcome! 
> 
> Love Becs

Their descent began.

 

 

Time slowed; air moved around them in a cooling caress. The fierce breaths that the ocean took reverberated through the two bodies. The rush of gravity tugged at limb and garment alike, colours blurred between blinks but always returning to amber or blue. Body and skin fused tightly, hands braced against muscle, lungs stilled by the shock. The two were silent in their fall.

 

Will closed his eyes.

 

He stood in his waders, the chill spring air nipped at him almost hip deep in the river. He rotated his shoulders, fingers holding loosely to the rod, line reached across the smooth plane of water until it met the surface almost completely undetected. A deep sigh left him...this was peace. It seemed he had been a long while away from this place. 

 

 

Suddenly the fabric of his jumper seemed to irritate his skin, the air turned to a biting cold. The shadow of something itched at his back. Turning slowly, Hannibal stood at the water's edge, dressed as the Doctor would choose to turn out. 

 

 

“You cannot stay here anymore, Will.” Hannibal said softly, the rich sound of his voice still carrying across the moving water.

 

 

Will grunted at the comment, turning back towards his line again. He had been a good fisherman. Before. Before he had been caught himself, snared in a line of his own making. The trees moved slowly, moulding to the shapes the wind dictated. The grass sighed. 

 

 

“What if I don’t want to leave?” Will mused to the riverbank. It didn’t matter if it was shouted or merely a passing thought, the other would catch it.

 

 

“We die.” 

 

 

Will knew that already. He was being obstinate. He knew that too. He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out that which could not be. That which was already inside. 

 

 

“Would that be so bad, Hannibal?” Will shifted his feet, the mud was starting to ooze over the rubber of the waders, trying to stick him to the spot. The line was loose. Still no catch. 

 

 

“Yes and no. Nothing is ever entirely good or bad. Perhaps it is not so bad to be buried in the sea. I always saw more ahead, but if this is where it stops, I have lived my life for this moment. What of you?”

 

 

The calmness within the other irritated the fisherman. Always calm, even now. Will shook his head. The wind picked up, blowing hair across his face. 

 

 

“I don’t want to die, no. Although, the way I flirt with Death himself, you would think otherwise.” He opened his eyes on his hands, watching them patient on the rod. As though he had all the time in the world, except he didn’t. That was a fact. 

 

 

 

“But you do not know how to live?”

 

 

Will bit on his lower lip; he knew he couldn’t ignore this. If he chose to do so, Hannibal would stay until they were silenced.

 

 

“No.” The fisherman replied bitterly to the observer. “I do not.”

 

 

“And you don’t see the benefit in giving yourself time to see if you might be able to find a way to live?”

 

 

Will dropped his chin to his chest, a shuddered breath leaving him. “I have given myself years, Hannibal. Still, I sleep every night on the keen edge of a knife blade. I am not even aware which way I will lean, or if I will cut myself. Terrified that the thought of wielding that weapon doesn't terrify me.” Will scrubbed his hands over his face. Suddenly he was tired, so very tired. The rod was gone, but of course it was gone. He wasn’t fishing anymore.

 

 

“You held that blade tonight.”

 

 

“I did.” 

 

 

Hannibal was next to him now, Will felt him before the image was reflected in the water. The presence was almost as comforting as an embrace. Turning to the other man, he studied the proud profile he was so very accustomed to; he couldn’t deny the company was pleasant. More than that.

 

 

“Has that been the deciding factor for you?”

 

 

“It has only brought me to the decision that I know who I am. I don’t know that I like what I have discovered.” Will followed the other man’s focus, the sun was beginning to set, streaking red and pink through the clear sky. “Hannibal why are you staying? You know you can live with the beast that is in you.”

 

 

Hannibal snorted a short laugh. “I wanted you to know where I was. Always, even in this. Besides, didn’t you take us both down so that we would go together?”

 

 

“I couldn’t…. Not directly. Not as a certainty. This way at least part of it is fate.” 

 

 

“So you wanted us to have the opportunity to die and yet, in the same breath, live as well? To take the decision from yourself?” 

 

 

Will turned to the other man now, who looked back at him. 

 

 

“I know what the world would dictate for us, what would, no, should be demanded. That we be stopped.”

 

 

Hannibal hummed at the words, allowing them to sink in. 

 

 

“And what is your decision? Is that what provides the dichotomy? Your own wishes and the wishes of the world at large? How does Will Graham want to live?” Amber eyes settled on his face, in that way that had always made Will feel as though he was being absorbed. A strange feeling when it was forever Will absorbing others. 

 

 

“That’s not a simple question. You know that Hannibal. It is impossible for me to separate myself from… expectations, and not ones that are my own.” The other man nodded. 

 

 

“Do you not desire the simple freedom to be able to make your own expectations for yourself?”

 

 

“Freedom even from your own expectations, Hannibal?” Will replied, unconvinced. 

 

 

Hannibal smiled down at him, a warm small thing that softened Will. “When I first met you, I had designs. You are well aware of how I construct patterns in my world. Planned out, but there is no long term goal. I long since discarded having expectations of you, enjoying the way you made your own designs too much to want to do much more than admire them. Even now, I have no expectations of your actions, I simply want to make sure you are not overlooking a way in which you can live. Live as Will Graham.” 

 

 

Will broke the eye contact, looking at the setting sun again. It was blood red now and half covered by the darkening line of the horizon. The cold bit closer.

 

 

“You are here not to talk me back, but to make sure I am doing the right thing, at the cost of your own life?”

 

 

He didn’t see Hannibal nod his head but he felt it.

 

 

“Will, I have long since come to the conclusion that I would find no value in my life if you were no longer within it. As I believe you have.”

 

 

The younger man turned to look at the other again, almost laughing as he took him in now. Hannibal’s normal attire was gone, in its place he wore a similar ensemble to Will. Waders, thick fleece and a knitted hat. He almost looked ridiculous but it seemed so utterly fitting that his mirth died on his lips. Hannibal would be with him, as he needed him right now.  Will swallowed, the emotion of the situation clinging to his throat. Blinking, he looked ahead, hands dropping to his side, fingertips dipping into the icy water. He shivered, the sensation merging to spread through him.

 

 

“Then what for us, hm? Destruction, chaos, despair...” Either angle he looked at it, the future from this fixed point was unclear, at best. Will shook his head, firming his lips into a tight line.

 

 

Hannibal laughed softly. “Are they not the cornerstones for the greatest adventures,” He paused, the light from the sun making his eyes a deep crimson, “For the greatest romances. What is life if lived in half measures? I would rather feel utter destruction by your side, then a banal existence bereft of you.” 

 

 

The words dried Will’s mouth. He tried to think of a reply but the words would not come. So he stood watching the sun slowly disappear with their time, the one person that truly knew him by his side. It was unique, they were unique. Neither man made for this world, the moral structures and societal norms irrelevant to one and imprisoning the other. On one hand it would be easier for them to fade out. 

 

 

Easier for whom?

 

 

Will had spent his life alone, more or less. Unable to connect, unable to find what he had found with Hannibal. He looked down at the fingers that were lacing through his own. There were things that he did want, past this point in his life. He had just resigned himself to the fact that they were things not meant for him. The hand held firmly to him and he let the air go from his lungs, slowly. 

 

 

The water began to drain away, Will watched it curiously before it vanished, replaced by a tiled floor. Looking up they stood behind two men. A moment, a memory replaying that they watched together. A dead  horse lay on the floor from which another man had emerged, covered in blood. The man in this memory that was Will stepped forward, pointing the gun at the bloody man’s face. 

 

 

Will watched this time; he saw the memory of Hannibal observe him, take the gun and hold his face. Pride and Love. No small amount of chaotic curiosity, that was expected. But this time he watched and felt past the point of his own anger, his own reckoning.

 

 

The smell of hay faded along with the memory. There was a fire burning now, the men observed themselves burning notes. This time not engrossed with a book, Will saw the moment that Hannibal felt his deceit. The moment a crack appeared in his guarded heart. The anger and the sorrow crash down on a hope that had been deliberately kindled. 

 

 

Will closed his eyes on the tears that brimmed there, only to open them to Hannibal’s kitchen. He watched himself allow Hannibal to gut him, forsaking the pain that ripped through his own muscles and hold the other man. For dear life he held on. Watched a single tear run down Hannibal’s nose as he left that scene, convinced that he had removed himself from the other. 

 

 

“Hannibal, I can’t-”

 

 

“Just watch, Will.”

 

 

Teeth sunk into his lower lip to pain himself enough, distracting himself from the moments they had shared. Extreme in their emotion, always raw and pure. 

 

 

Will huffed a laugh, unable to stop the colour rising in his cheeks as he watched himself sit down next to Hannibal in a gallery, mirroring that same full smile. Now he could appreciate the reunion again, from both men, the joy at finding and being found almost vibrated through the space.

 

 

It was the cold in his feet that Will felt first. He furrowed his brow looking onto the unfamiliar scene. No, it wasn’t unfamiliar, it was the Verger Estate, blanketed in snow. Over a mound appeared a dark shape, carrying another. It didn’t take another moment before Will understood this was how he ended up back in Wolftrap. Hannibal had him, covered in blood, protectively taking him to safety. Will shook his head, eyes downcast now as he remembered what came next. The rejection he didn’t need to view again to remember vividly. 

 

 

He blinked and they were in Hannibal’s cell. They watched as their images approached each other, separated by glass. This time Will could see himself, the hurt and the need. The frustration that burnt at this thing that was a permanent fixture. This love. His hand pushed against the cool of the glass, the sigh that he remembered leaving his body shuddered out, too many things to be said and just not enough words. The longing and the ache that was remembered and not quite sated. 

 

 

The hand squeezed his as the floor became paving stones and he knew what they would see. Hannibal was on the Dragon’s back, teeth ripped at flesh and Will drew a knife across the enemy's stomach, in the same way that had been rehearsed precisely on him. The hush as life blood drained from the downed creature, the quiet as they had found each other. The bloody embrace that could have been rebirth. Could still be rebirth.

 

 

A tear ran slowly down his cheek as the scene faded. They stood now in the tall grass that ran alongside the river where Hannibal had found him. Just the very edge of the sun remained now, an angry burnt red that spread its fingers across the landscape, grasping for a final few moments.

 

 

“I wanted us to see it once more, together. Our becoming.” Hannibal’s own voice was thick with emotion too. “You were always beautiful, beyond words. This served my purpose better than anything I could say.” 

 

 

Will turned to the other man, trying to swallow the lump forming but failing. 

 

 

“You could still go, Hannibal.” He looked up, pleadingly at the other.

 

 

“I won’t. Not without you.”

 

 

The older man stepped towards the other, holding Will’s face in his hands, lips gently kissed his forehead. The moment drew out and Will forgot to breath. Hannibal moved back. Will had almost tipped his chin up, almost searched for the others mouth himself. Almost. His lips trembled at what would not pass.

 

 

Dark shadows began to pass over them now. Hannibal’s hands left him. The image blurred. They stood in the river now, it was rising fast: navel, chest, neck...

 

 

“No, Hann-” Will began, a sob choked him. Darkness rolled in. Water rushed into his lungs.

 

 

Almost. 

 

 

Will forced the thought away from himself as hard as he forced his eyes open, he would not settle for almost. Darkness surrounded him, freezing cold silence. Shooting out an arm instinctively, he managed to catch an arm, heavy and lifeless in the water. Will pulled at the thing in his grasp with all his strength, wrapping both arms around the torso that surged up, before kicking his legs towards the surface. 

 

 

The surface seemed too far, too out of reach. Anger started to boil in Will, at himself. The burn in his body and lungs seared through him. He felt as though he was going to shatter, just as his head burst through the surface of the water. He gulped in air, before cupping Hannibal's chin, tipping his head out of the water. The other man wasn't breathing. 

 

 

“Fuck! Hannibal, breathe please.” 

 

 

The younger man kicked his legs, swimming on his back and guided with his free arm towards the cliff face. A wave brought him home, and his fingers grazed and bruised on the hard, rough surface as he found a firm hand hold. He looked along the cliff wildly before his eyes found what he needed. There was a small ledge, just above the sea level, right now anyway. 

 

 

Dragging them both along, his hand slapped on the wet flat of the rock. Wasting no time, he managed to somehow haul Hannibal halfway onto the surface. Climbing on himself, he dragged the too still body of the older man to lay flat on his back, legs still dangling in the choppy waters. 

 

 

“Come on, come on, come on!” He murmured to himself, the hum of the ocean not helping to calm him like it had done during their descent. 

 

 

His hands found the right place on Hannibal's chest and he began to push down. His numb lips made the clumsy count to thirty before he positioned Hannibal’s head correctly. Opening the other man’s mouth, he check his airway was clear. It was. He took a deep breath.

 

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

 

Will’s lips came down on Hannibal’s, colder than his own. He blew the air from his lungs into the other; released that mouth, gulping down more air and pushing that into Hannibal, too. As he moved to sit back, he couldn’t help the light kiss he laid on Hannibal’s forehead. His hands found that spot again.

 

 

1, 2, 3, 4…..

 

 

He looked at the man’s face, panic was starting to claw at Will now. This could have been their rebirth, he couldn’t come out of this alone. Not after everything. 

 

 

“Come on, you stubborn bastard! Breathe!” 

 

 

He bent over the other man again, breathing twice more into him. Something started to slip away. That lump was in his throat. Will wasn’t sure it had ever actually gone. His hands were rough now as they resumed their position. The man gritted his teeth, jaw clenching, holding everything back. This was not how it would end.

 

 

“One! Two! Three! Fo-”

 

 

Will’s yells were cut off as the body lurched, water spraying from Hannibal’s mouth. He froze for a second before grabbing the man and pulling him to lay on his side. Eyes still closed, the older man continued to cough and spew up sea water until at last he sucked air noisily into himself, before flopping on to his back again. 

 

 

The younger man sat back on his haunches, content to breathe for the minute. His body flared with the pain of his injures and exertion, but that was nothing. He was alive, they were alive. Together. 

 

 

“Will.” Hannibal’s voice was scratchy. 

 

 

Without hesitation, the younger man reached his hand out towards the other, grabbing the hand that lay still. Fingers tightened in his as soon as he took it, strong as ever, 

 

 

“You should just catch your breath, Hannibal.” Will managed, still trying to regulate his own breathing. 

 

 

Hannibal smiled, eyes opening to look at the other. A silent exchange passed between the two. 

 

 

“I didn’t know if you would do it, Will. Life is never dull with you.” Hannibal mused. 

 

 

“Well, be thankful you like the droll. You’re stuck with me.” Will punctuated the words with a laugh before wincing. 

 

 

“Indeed, and you with me.”

 

 

“It would seem that way.” 

 

 

The fingers on Will’s freehand danced over the chilled skin of the other’s forehead, pushing short hair back. Bending over the other, Will laid another soft kiss on Hannibal’s forehead before hesitating.

 

 

Almost.

 

 

He shook his head slightly, before closing his eyes, bringing his mouth down on top of the other man’s. Hands were on Will’s face as lips met, a gentle and warm kiss. It was a short, sweet thing as was befitting their current predicament. They parted, breathing warmth on one another for a moment, the air carrying the silent words that didn’t need to be voiced. 

 

 

“We need to get warm, Hannibal. Do you have a plan?”

 

 

Hannibal pushed himself to sitting, a groan of discomfort leaving him as he felt at the wound in his stomach. He opened his mouth to answer, but was was cut off as they heard the engine of a boat whirring closer. Will moved closer to the other man, not sure what this was and how he could protect Hannibal from it.

 

 

A light glared at them now from the vessel and it drew closer. Will tried to stay as calm as the other man, already imaging their separation. He shielded his eyes from the glare, only making out a silhouette of a single body on board the small boat. Hannibal laughed as the boat came to stop, bobbing as close to them as possible. The older man called out one word, one that meant safety.

 

 

“Chiyoh?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> CHIYOH IS THAT BAMF AND I WON'T HEAR ANYTHING OTHER ON THE SUBJECT


End file.
